


Buzz

by Tulikettu



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Blow Job, Frank is submissive, M/M, Masturbation, Matt likes being in control, Military Kink, Unexplored Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-25 22:10:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10773465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tulikettu/pseuds/Tulikettu
Summary: Frank needs a hair cut.Matt likes being called 'sir'.Neither of them are really expecting their discussion to go this way.





	Buzz

**Author's Note:**

> I'm note entirely happy with how I wrapped this up, so I'm apologising in advance if you feel let down. I'll possibly come back and rewrite it another time. Sorry guys! I hope you enjoy it, anyway. A little bit of military kink and submissive!Frank might make up for it.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                        "Oh for crying out loud, Red," Frank exclaims, pacing the small space the two of them are occupying in order to come up with a mutually agreeable plan of action.  They get too distracted by each other if they both go in doing their own thing- or at least Matt gets distracted trying to stop Frank murdering people.

 

So here they are, in one of Frank’s safe houses, negotiating. It isn't going particularly well. 

 

"You reckon there's gonna be enough evidence to put them away? We're wasting our goddamn time just handin 'em over to the cops-"

 

Frank sweeps his fingers through his hair. Something about the sound makes Matt shiver. 

 

He tips his head, frowning at the other man.

 

"Your hair is getting long," he observes softly. 

 

"Huh?" Frank pauses and turns towards him. His heart is beating solidly, there's a heat radiating from him, the soft scent of his clean skin and coffee. Frank always smells clean, Matt has noticed. "Matt?"

 

He snaps back to the moment. Frank only uses his real name when he's feeling sentimental or if he’s trying to make a point. 

 

"Uh- your hair- your hair is getting long," Matt repeats, hearing exactly how stupid that sounds now, and how completely irrelevant to their conversation.

 

Frank runs his fingers through his hair again, and again Matt shivers. 

 

"You don't like it?" Frank asks, almost sounding apprehensive at the fact, as though Matt’s opinion on his hair really matters to him. 

 

"It's just different. I didn't- I hadn't realised it had grown."

 

"Well, you're blind. S'why I don't ask you if you like my pants."

 

Matt's attention is drawn to Frank's legs, or more specifically between Frank's legs, where he can make out the slightly warmer outline of his-

 

"Red?"

 

"Huh?"

 

"You wanna cut it for me?"

 

Matt's mouth opens in surprise. "I'm blind." He hears Frank exhale a little breath, hears his steady pulse jump a beat.

 

"You could just say 'no, Frank, I'm not comfortable with that'," Frank mumbles. “I know you’re blind, asshole.”

 

"No, no, I mean, you won't let me compliment your pants but you'll let me cut your hair?"

 

"Well you can touch my pants all you want but you won't be able to work 'em out, what colour they are or who made ‘em. You can tell how long my hair is. I mean, shit, you can tell how long my hair is just hearin it. So I figured you'd be okay with that.” Frank rambles. He doesn’t ramble a lot either. Only when he’s overthinking things. “But you're clearly uncomfortable with it so it ain't happenin, but I'm just sayin." 

 

"No," Matt cuts in, because he objects to being told he's uncomfortable. He's not. He's fine. "I'll cut your hair."

 

"Now?"

 

"Yeah," Matt replies with determination. "Right now. We’re doing it right now."

 

He thinks he hears Frank chuckle then, which annoys him even more, so maybe he shouldn't cut hair right now. He’s going to need to concentrate, and if Frank is pissing him off that’s going to make things more difficult. Frank's footsteps fade as he moves towards his bathroom, the sounds of him moving around there echoing off of the tiles before he comes back, right up into Matt's space. He doesn't get this close very often, especially when there's no adrenaline involved.  His heart is still heavy and steady and all of the layers of Frank's scent are there, unclouded. His clean skin and sweat and leather, coffee. But there's a softer undertone of something that makes Matt's skin tingle. It’s not unfamiliar, it’s just stronger. 

 

Something small and metallic is pressed into his hand. Oh, hair clippers. There's something gentle about the way Frank touches him, hands over-

 

He's handing over a fancy shaving device. There's nothing erotic about it, for goodness sake.

 

But he can't help but listen to the smirk curling on Frank's lips. 

 

"Are you gonna get between my legs, Frank?" Matt asked, grinning as the smirk slips from Frank's face. Why was he- was he flirting? Why?

 

"Just my head," Frank replies, his voice rumbling softly in a way that Matt hasn't heard before. "You only get my head."

 

Matt's mouth opens and closes a few times, then he punches Frank in the arm. "Get on your knees."

 

This time he hears Frank's mouth open, hears a little exhale of breath. 

 

Good.

 

"I said get on your knees, soldier," Matt says, heat rushing through him as he speaks, heart skipping at his own audacity. More than half of him expects Frank to punch him, but there's a moment of silence before the other man lowers himself to his knees at Matt's feet.

 

The air carries up that soft scent that Matt hadn't been able to place. It's stronger, it makes his pulse quicken.

 

"Yessir," Frank's voice sounds rough, breathy. He's looking up at Matt from his submissive position. When Matt directs his attention downwards he sees the heat pouring off of the other man. Frank is almost glowing, his heavy pulse pumping hot blood through him, lighting him up. 

 

Reaching out his free hand, Matt runs the fingers of his right hand Frank's hair, slower than before, indulging in the sensation. It's shorter at the sides, shaved close, then slightly longer on top. His fingers brush over the side by Frank's ear, and Matt feels a shiver run through the other man.

 

He throws the clippers onto the chair behind him, his left hand joining in the gentle petting, indulging completely in the sensation that runs from his fingertips all the way through his body. His nails drag slightly on Frank's neck, and the other man moans. He goddamn moans, and for a moment Matt finds himself blinded to everything but the way Frank glows with the noise.

 

The scent he _ just cannot _ pinpoint is stronger yet again, and it's only when he feels a throb between his own legs that Matt realises it’s arousal. Frank is turned on. God, he smells so good. And not just because the pheromones are telling him so. 

 

He lowers himself into the chair, still holding Frank's head. He parts his legs, making room for the other man between them. "Forward."

 

Frank shuffles forward obediently, resting his hands on Matt's knees. Matt knows that he's hard enough that Frank will be able to tell from this proximity, and he wonders what would happen if he told Frank to suck him off. Would there be another quiet 'yes sir,' followed by gentle fingers undoing his pants, hot mouth sliding over his dick-

 

Matt's own fingers twitch on the back of Frank's head, and he thinks maybe Frank is about to move forward, anticipating the guidance. Jesus, Frank would do it? 

 

"Turn around," Matt all but forces himself to rasp, swallowing heavily as Frank seems to hesitate for a second. But he does turn, shifts, settles himself on his bottom, back straight, head forward.

 

"Sir."

 

"Thank you, lieutenant." 

 

Again Matt doesn't know if he's taken it too far, if Frank is going to abort this, punch Matt, then leave to kill some people on his own-

 

But Frank moans. It's the sexiest thing Matt has heard in a long time, and it’s accompanied by a soft exhale of breath and the quickening of Frank's pulse. Usually it's so calm and steady, resting rhythm no matter what, only picking up during a fight. Matt has never heard it change when there's been no one else around.

 

He runs his fingers once more through Frank's hair, allowing the tingles, the heat, the scent of this other man to consume him for a moment before he picks up the clippers again. The numbers are embossed on the casing by the switch, and he clicks it to two, listening to the head adjust and change around the blades. It's quite a nice sound. 

 

One more time Matt moves his fingers over Frank's hair, feeling where the lengths change. Frank is still, almost quiet save for the rumbling in his chest, the heaviness of his breathing, the slightly faster thud of his pulse. He's not going to stop Matt, he's going to let Matt continue.

 

He flicks the switch to one, deciding he'll do the shorter parts whilst he can feel them properly, then presses the button that brings the clippers to life. They hum quite softly, which Matt appreciates. The fingers of his left hand are still buried in Frank's hair and he pushes his head forward. Frank doesn't resist, and that shouldn't be as sexy as it is. He'd let Matt do anything to him- 

 

He presses the clippers to Frank's head, running his fingers in advance of them to feel how far he needs to go. For some reason, pressing his fingers against the new, closely shaved hair, feeling the warm skin beneath the soft prickles is wonderful. Matt presses his hand to Frank's head and bites his lip when Frank tips it without question, unflinching as Matt shaves beside his ear. The trust the other man is putting in him is humbling, and Matt never thought he would be humbled by Frank Castle.

 

"Turn your head, look left," Matt demands, needing to reach the left side with his right hand. Frank does as instructed, shifting around so that Matt can get the full side, repeating the motions, following the line he's already made, his fingers stroking over Frank's neck slightly more than necessary. 

 

The longer part is a lot easier to do. Matt can just run the clippers over Frank's head, so much less guidance involved. But he lets his fingers guide him, just in case he misses a spot, feeling the strands slipping away as they're trimmed. 

 

Only when Matt reaches the front of Frank's head does Frank flinch, roughly jerking away. Matt has realised too late why that might be as his fingers run over a dip, a smooth circle, a scar made by a bullet-

 

"I'm so sorry," Matt sputters, turning off the clippers even though he's only half done. "Frank, I'm sorry."

 

He tries to listen to the other man's pulse, tries to get a reading of him, but it's simply crept back down to normal.

 

"Frank-"

 

"S'fine, Red," Frank replies, sounding anything but. Matt is reminded of when they were in the graveyard - Christ, it feels like years ago - and the way this huge man had sounded then. How small and broken. But there isn't the anger in the pain now. It's just pain. Not even physical. There's just that reminder there, the echo of his loss. "Carry on."

 

He settles himself back into place, his body comfortably framed by Matt's legs, back straight, facing forward as though nothing has happened. After a moment, Matt turns the clippers back on and resumes, moving his fingers slowly across Frank's head, amazed at the way Frank's pulse begins to pick up again.

 

Eventually, Matt runs out of hair, but it doesn't mean he can't keep touching, stroking, both hands now sliding over the freshly trimmed scalp. Frank leans into the touch, tips his head so that he can get more contact. 

 

Matt leans forward and blows against the back of Frank's neck. The most beautiful sound slips from the other man’s lips, a tremble running through his body. "What was that, soldier?"

 

Frank let's out another breath. Matt can smell that beautiful scent of arousal in the air around them and he wants- what does he want? He blows against the other side of Frank's neck with the intention of removing the shorn hair. Nothing else. Absolutely nothing else.

 

"Sir-" Frank almost whimpers. "I- you should stop that."

 

So of course Matt does it again, blowing a soft stream of air over the back of Frank's neck. He wants to provoke him. He wants to know what will make Frank crack. And how. 

 

"Matty, please-"

 

Matty? Frank has never called him that before. Never been so- affectionate? But then again they're in very new territory now. And it isn't as though Matt dislikes it. Quite the opposite.

 

"It's please, _ sir _ -" he insists, digging his fingers into the newly cropped hair, giving it a tug. 

 

"Sir. Yes, sir," Frank replies immediately. No hesitation in submitting to Matt. 

 

Matt doesn't know what to do with this power. But he's painfully hard now and he knows that Frank is. 

 

"Turn around, soldier," Matt whispers.

 

Frank takes just a moment to compose himself, then he moves slowly, gets back into his knees, and turns around. 

 

His arousal is almost radiating off of him. The heat in his body is concentrated between his legs. He's sure that Frank knows he can sense that. And he knows Frank can see his cock straining against his pants.

 

"Tell me what you're thinking," Matt says, his fingers gliding over Frank's head. "Be explicit." How far can he push this? How far can he push Frank? Matt’s enjoying this new side of both of them, and so far he’s met no resistance.

 

"You're- you're aroused, sir," Frank whispers. "Why?"

 

"I can smell how turned on you are," Matt replies. "I've been able to smell it on you since you came back from the bathroom with the clippers-" he pauses for a second, cupping Frank's face in his hand. Actually, that isn't the first time. He's smelt it before. Before today, before now. "How often are you turned on around me, Frank?"

 

Frank pauses, Matt can almost hear him weighing up the honesty of his answer. 

 

"All the time."

 

Matt doesn't expect that. At all. His fingers twitch against Frank's cheek.

 

"Why?" He hears himself ask, genuinely confused, his mask of dominance slipping.

 

"Because I find you attractive," Frank replies candidly.

 

Frank can't be lying, his body gives him away, but Matt is still surprised into silence for the moment. Perhaps because he's never thought of Frank liking men, but then Matt has never asked. Just assumed that because Frank married a woman that was his sole preference. And it isn't as though Matt has sung his sexual preferences from the rooftops, it’s not something any of them tend to casually discuss.

 

Even so, he doesn't feel like he should be Frank's type. Which is stupid because, again, he would never had assumed that Frank would be so easily submissive. His assumptions are falling to the facts he’s uncovering. 

 

"If I asked you to go down on me, would you do it?" Matt asks. He feels Frank's head tip slightly, questioningly.

 

"Is that a direct order, sir?" Frank replies softly.

 

Matt knows Frank would have pulled away by now if he'd wanted to. He hasn't. He remains still, surrounded by heat and arousal, everything honed in on Matt. 

 

"Yes, Castle," Matt murmurs. "Make me come."

 

He feels a moan move through Frank's body, a soft, pleased noise, followed by eager movements. Matt can't help but gasp as his trousers are opened, his boxers lifted gently off of his cock and inched down so that his whole length is exposed to the air, and to Frank's heavy gaze. Matt feels that, too. The way Frank's eyes move over him, admire him. Matt likes it. 

 

He has time to anticipate Frank's lips as the other man leans forward slowly, hands stroking up Matt's inner thighs. Matt wants him, shivering with desire as Frank’s hot breath slides over his cock. 

 

Frank has done this before, that much is obvious, though Matt really doesn’t want to think about that. He doesn’t want to allow himself to feel jealousy. Frank is focused on him, Frank is on his knees for Matt, doing everything Matt asks of him. Who else can say that right now?

 

Hot lips flutter a kiss to his head and Matt trembles where he sits. He wants to tell Frank to go faster, to beg him to keep going, but at the same time he’s enjoying this, he’s enjoying the tease. As those same lips part and slowly slide down his erection, Matt lets out a desperate moan, his fingernails pressing against Frank’s head. 

 

Oh God, Frank is blowing him.

 

His lips move up and down, slow and sure, his tongue curling around Matt’s cock as he moves. Frank’s hands grip Matt’s upper thighs, his thumbs rubbing circles on their insides. He hums, sinking all the way down to the base and pulling back up again. 

 

“God, Fr-” Matt bites his lip, wondering if he should call Frank by his name, if the distance they established with their little roleplay should be maintained. But then Frank hums again, doubling his pace in an instant. The sounds his mouth makes are dirty, wet, fucking erotic. Matt can only gasp, any potential words lost. Instead of pressing, his fingers are now stroking, caressing gently, encouraging the movement that is pulling him rapidly towards orgasm. “I’m really- I’m close-”

 

Frank doesn’t let up, he doesn’t slow down, and Matt is writhing on the chair, gasping in needy breaths. He was too turned on to begin with, and Frank’s ability means he doesn’t stand a chance. Everything from the last half hour, coupled with how long it’s been since someone sucked Matt off, leaves him almost immediately on the edge. There’s an ache between his legs, right between his legs that is demanding attention, too, and Matt’s brain supplies him with vivid images of Frank there, eating him out, fingering him, anything. God, it’s been too long- 

 

“Frank,” Matt starts again, almost pleading. “Frank, I’m there, I’m there-” 

 

He’s expecting Frank to pull back and finish him off with his hand, but Frank is relentless. Matt lets out a cry, a scream of pleasure as he comes in Frank’s mouth, feeling the other man swallowing around him, swallowing everything. Slumping back against the chair, Matt feels boneless, doesn’t think he can move again. Ever. 

 

Frank withdraws slowly. Matt can hear his heavy breathing and see the glow of his body, heat billowing around him. The sweet smell of his arousal is stronger than ever, and Matt wants- no, Matt needs - to have him orgasm. He’s still catching his breath, drinking Frank in, as his underwear is gently pulled up and his trousers carefully refastened.

 

“You’re hard, lieutenant,” Matt says finally.

 

“Yes, sir,” Frank rasps, his voice huskier than usual.

 

Matt takes a deep breath. “Stand up.”

 

Frank does. The heat between his legs is brilliant and bright and Matt is hungry for him. He’s certain he could tell Frank to do anything right now and Frank would comply. 

 

“What do you want, Frank?”

 

“Sir?” Frank asks, swallowing heavily. 

 

“What do you want to get you off? What do you think about when you’re alone?”

 

Frank’s pulse has quickened even more, but he seems to be struggling to find the words. 

 

“Undo your pants. Take yourself out,” Matt orders, sitting up straighter, watching the hot outline of the other man as he unzips and pulls out his cock. The air is filled with Frank, Matt can feel himself growing warm, feel the blood immediately moving back down. The outline in the other man’s pants hadn’t been all that deceiving. He’s big. Thick. Matt shifts on the chair. “Stroke yourself.”

 

Frank seems to hesitate for a moment, but then his hand begins to move slowly up and down his shaft. His breathing trembles. Matt is completely enamoured with this side of Frank, wondering why he’s seeing this now, wondering how many other people have seen the submissive side of this man. 

 

“What do you think about, soldier. Tell me,” Matt repeats his earlier question. 

 

“Sir,” Frank whimpers the words this time. Matt can’t think of a noise more beautiful in comparison. 

 

“Still your hand. Stop touching,” Matt commands, listening to Frank’s reactions, his frustration and his need as his hand stops moving. “You don’t get any more until you tell me.”

 

He can almost feel the internal conflict as Frank decides what he should say, or what he should keep to himself. Matt doesn’t think it’s anything  _ bad _ , Frank is a good man. 

 

“Sir,” he starts again quietly. “You, sir. Sometimes. More recently. Sir-”

 

Matt lets out the breath he was apparently holding. “Me doing what?”

 

Frank heaves in his own breath. “Imagine us in bed, sir. I imagine you- I imagine you beneath me or- r-riding me.”

 

Matt’s cheeks have flushed, and he’s definitely hard again now, the ache back between his legs. “Is that so? Do I ever get to fuck you in these scenarios, lieutenant?” 

 

He’s sure Frank’s knees buckle slightly, the scent in the air is heavier, a little different as Frank’s arousal increases and his cock leaks onto his still fingers. Matt can hear him taking deep lungfuls of air, his pulse ragged, fluttering. 

 

“I would let you fuck me, sir,” Frank whispers. “If you wanted to fuck me, I’d enjoy it.”

 

Matt’s hand moves between his own legs, feeling his own erection throbbing with interest. 

 

“You can continue,” he murmurs. “I want to hear you.”

 

Frank doesn’t hesitate, his fingers start to move again, stroking rapidly up and down his shaft. He moans loudly, and that coupled with the sound of his hand moving is obscenely erotic. Matt grips himself, his thumb caressing gently through the fabric, sparks of pleasure leaping up his spine. 

 

“Yes-” he hears Frank gasp, sees the shape of his other hand moving to his chest, rubbing over one of his nipples through his shirt. “Yes. Yes-”

 

Matt is going to come again. It’s building up, a steady hum in his lower body. But he wants Frank to get there first. He smirks. 

 

“Come, Castle. And say my name.”

 

Frank makes a sound like a sob, hand stuttering up and down his length. “Yes- y-Matt-” he manages before Matt sees the heat of his orgasm rush through him, the endorphins colouring Frank’s body in a wave. “Matt-”

 

He’d expected ‘Red’. To hear ‘Matt’, to hear his actual name right now is all it takes to tip him over the edge again, trembling quietly on the chair, his eyes glued on the other man. Frank is slowing down, though his moans are low and fast as he rides out the rest of his pleasure, the patterns of heat and chemicals flooding over him, filling in the gaps Matt rarely gets to see. . 

 

Matt doesn’t want him to know he came in his pants. He doesn’t want Frank to know how much he can turn him on. He barely wants to admit it to himself, let alone another person. This whole event has spiralled out of control. How are they ever going to be able to do anything together again? Surely Frank will be too embarrassed to even look at him. Matt is horrified, and all he’s done is deliver instructions.

 

Frank is miraculously still standing, and though his breathing is still heavy, he’s calming down. In fact, it’s the most at peace Matt has ever heard him. Bordering on content.

 

Matt can feel the weight of his gaze on him. 

 

“You regret this, huh?” Frank whispers, the calmness evaporating almost instantly. “I’m sorry, Red. Should have stopped-”

 

“No, no,” Matt shakes his head. No matter what, he can’t pretend he didn’t enjoy that. That he didn’t get a thrill out of ordering Frank around, of having his obedience, of hearing that Frank wanted him.  _ Him _ , of all people. Frank has said before, back when they’d stopped fighting and started talking to each other properly, that he has no interest or intention of ever pursuing another relationship, of sleeping with anyone else, that no one will ever be right for him. But Matt- Matt is  _ something _ to him. Frank has thought about them together. Has made an exception and has admitted it. And if Matt can push aside his -admittedly- incomprehensible guilt and the worry that he’s broken something, he’s flattered. Genuinely. “Just surprised.”

 

He pauses, and then takes off his glasses, folding them, putting them on the table beside him. He hears Frank’s breathing hitch again, a jump in the slow rhythm his heartbeat has settled back into. He’s never seen Matt’s eyes before. It’s all Matt has to offer him right now in exchange for Frank bearing himself the way he has.

 

“Damn, Red. You got the loveliest face I’ve ever-” Frank starts, stopping himself quickly. 

 

Matt directs his gaze to where he estimates Frank’s eyes to be. “You wanna get dinner later?” he knows immediately that Frank is going to take that the wrong way. They’ve had take out food together on several occasions, it’s nothing new, it’s almost a given. “I mean, Frank, a real dinner. Not a box of noodles or a burrito.” 

 

“Oh,” Frank sounds surprised, and Matt wishes he’d thought about this a bit better. There’s a difference between them doing...whatever this is, and actually attempting something more. Something Frank has ruled out. Matt is too cocky over his realisation that Frank would fuck him in his fantasies, and has let that ruin this. Matt doesn’t even know- he’s never even thought of Frank in that way- “Not Italian food though, okay?” Frank adds after a pause. “You like tapas?”

 

“You’ll have to read the menu to me,” Matt says, almost apologetically. He’s still disabled in a number of ways, and maybe Frank hasn’t thought that through. 

 

“Pretty sure I can handle that,” Frank replies, a smile in his voice. “Sir.”

 

“Just Matt,” Matt smirks. “Save the sirs for when you take me home later.” He hears the flutter in Frank’s pulse, sure he hears the smile grow. “But if you think a couple of orgasms are going to change my mind about our plan-”

 

Frank sighs heavily. “Oh, for crying out loud, Red-”

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> If you have any suggestions for the end, I'll happily accept them. Sorry again.
> 
> Find me on Discord : Legohearts #0322


End file.
